


The Cell Block Tango

by 221castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester First Meet, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Dean Winchester is investigated, Detective Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28448226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221castiel/pseuds/221castiel
Summary: Detective Castiel Novak has been given the task of investigating Dean Winchester, a man accused for his husbands murder.It should have been easy, with all evidence pointing to guilty, though with Dean’s lingering gaze, smooth voice, and lack of clothing, things are much more difficult than Castiel would have ever expected
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	The Cell Block Tango

“Are the handcuffs really necessary?”

“You’re a suspect for murder, they are necessary.”

The man, Dean Winchester, tilts his head, the corner of his lip tugging up in a small smirk as his eyes slowly travel down Cas’s body, something that only makes Cas tug at the collar of his uniform and shift in his seat, suddenly incredibly hot. It would have been fine, even with the man being as gorgeous as he was, if he was wearing clothing but instead he sat at the other end of the metal table in nothing but an elegant robe and a pair of black boxers. The robe was made out of an almost see through fabric coloured a deep red that contrasted against the man’s pale skin. Pale skin that Cas saw more and more of with each shift the man made, with each adjustment of the sleeve, or shoulder, with each lean forward, and tilt of his head. Why the officers hadn't let the man change before being arrested Cas didn’t know. 

He also wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kill them for it or thank them. 

“Could you describe the events leading up to when you found your husband?” Cas asks his own gaze glancing down the man’s body, then back to his lips. His perfectly curved lips that sat just parted. 

“He had it coming.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. He didn’t expect that, hell, he didn’t know what to expect from this man, anyone else who was a suspect for the partners murder sobbed, mourned, pleaded for innocences, but not this man. He looked far from pleading, instead relaxed and in control, as if he was the one investigating Castiel and not the other way around. And between the heat that was rapidly pooling in Cas’s stomach, and the racing of his heart that only quickened with each passing second, part of him wondered if that was true. “I asked if you could describe the events leading up to when you found your husband, are your capable of doing that?”

Adjusting his robe, Dean hums, fingers tugging at the collar,exposing more and more of his pale neck, causing Cas to once again shift in his seat. “Fine,” Dean hums. His hand drops and Cas’s gaze follows, breath stuck in his throat as he watches Dean’s fingers pull the material closer to himself. The red material that contrasted so nicely against his pale skin, that left Cas’s mouth dry and eyes wondering for more. The small investigation room sat thick with tension, with possibilities, with want, though Cas wasn’t sure if Dean felt it to.

“I was in the kitchen preparing dinner,” at the low hum of Dean’s voice Cas’s gaze darts back up to the others face, a heat flaring across his own neck. “After I got the food in the stove I went upstairs to have a bath and when I came back down-“ Dean’s eyes dart down Cas’s body, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “My husband was dead.” 

“Your neighbours,” Cas began. His gaze drops to the paper that was resting blank on the table in front of him, his pen hesitating over the page. “They said they didn’t see anyone arrive or leave.” 

“Are you suggesting something else, detective...“ 

“Novak.” 

His gaze darts back up, immediately meeting the other man's eyes. He could feel the electricity buzzing under his skin, his heart hammering as Dean continues to stare. Dean shifts again and the right should of his robe fell, showing off another stretch of pale, unmarked skin that only made the electricity buzz faster, that tore the air from Cas’s lungs. 

“Winchester,” Dean hums. “Dean Winchester”

“I know.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Dean’s lips. “Well officer Novak, are you suggesting that I killed my husband.”

“There is evidence.”

“Now why the hell would I do that?” Cas doesn’t reply, his lips pressing in a tight line while his gaze locks on the other, watching as Dean stands. He should tell him to sit back down, he should, Cas knew that, but instead his gaze was dropping, darting over the pale skin of Dean’s chest. He should tell the other to sit down, it was an official investigation but it was almost impossible to ignore the racing of his heart, beating faster with each step Dean took, until he was leaning into Cas, lips inches away from his ear. “I asked you a question, detective.”

Clenching his jaw, Cas’s gaze stays forward. He doesn’t think he could look to the other and keep breathing. The other whose voice fell in a low hum teetering on the edge of danger, whose lips were sculpted without flaw, whose very existence burned Castiel from the inside out. “He was an angry drinker,” Dean finally hums, though the words seem more to himself than anything. “Reminded me of my old man- maybe that’s why I stayed.” 

Dean leans back and immediately Cas exhales through his nose. “Detective,” Dean whispers. “Do you want to know what actually happened?”

“Of course.”

Dean once again leans in and this time Cas allows himself a glance, just a quick glance over the others features before he was looking forward, and listening to Dean’s smooth words. “I was in the kitchen making dinner when my husband came in” Dean whispers, lips almost brushing over Cas’s ear. “He started screaming this bullshit how I was cheating on him.” The man shifted, and Cas’s grip around his pencil tightened, heart leaping in his chest. He could feel the man’s fingers trailing his arm, slow, careful, intoxicating. “With the neighbour, with the mailman, with his sister. Said he should have known it would’ve happened- something about me being bi.”

Cas’s head was spinning with each word the man spoke, the electricity pulsing through his skin. “He kept screaming. he wouldn’t shut up,” Dean whispers. “Then, he tripped on my knife,” his lips brushed over the love of Cas’s ear and every nerve in Cas’s body froze. “Ten times. He’d always been a klutz,”

“The whole thing was a blur, I didn’t know what had happened until I was washing the blood from my hands,” he felt the other’s breath flare across his ear. Warm. Electric. Tearing his breath from lungs. “It really ruined dinner.”

“You killed your husband,” Cas barely whispers.

Dean’s fingers leave Cas’s arm and instead are brought to Cas’s chin, gently yet forcefully tilting Cas’s head so he had no other choice but to look at the other man. The other man who was so close, so close that Cas could only make our one thought through his spiralling mind and boiling insides; how hadn’t he noticed Dean’s eyes. barely inches away, and the only thought Cas could make out through his spiralling thoughts, and boiling insides was how hadn’t he noticed Dean’s eyes. They were such a vibrant colour, a breathtaking shade of emerald green that were flecked with lighter and darker shades. 

He could easily stare forever, until he had every shade of green memorized, until he knew every freckle that scattered Dean’s cheeks. Let his fingers trail over that pale skin he’d seen so much of yet not enough of. Let the want that ticked every inch of his being consume him. 

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” Dean whispers. his thumb begins trailing along Cas’s cheek and it was only at that moment, that Cas realizes Dean’s hand was on his face, on his face and no longer handcuffed together. 

Lips parting in shock Cas’s gaze drops to the chairs armrest, where the one hand cuff loop had been tightened while the other was tightened around his own wrist. Shit. Cas tugs up though his wrist only gets so far before the metal is digging into his skin and his hand is being forced back to the arm rest. Shit

Dean steps away and immediately Cas’s gaze darts up, whatever warmth that had once filled his body replaced with fear. Something that only grew as he watched Dean stride across the investigation room each step confident and without hesitation, robe flowing behind. “I told you, detective,” Dean hums over his shoulder. 

He stops at the door, one hand on the handle as his head turns, eyes meeting Cas’s. Those vibrant green eyes holding the same control as before, as if he was the one who held the power, who was incharge, who pulled the strings. And this time Cas doesn’t doubt it for a second. 

“He had it coming.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dear everyone;  
> How do you write sexual attraction?  
> Love, a very confused asexual


End file.
